The Interview
by beexfeatheryduster
Summary: After defeating Lord Voldemort, the Wizarding World was peaceful once more. The legacy of bloodshed stayed strong and became a point of fascination for later generations. Severus Snape and Hermione Granger ask a reporter to allow them to tell their story
1. Ms Rainey Maguire

**Authors Note: I don't really know where the idea for this came from but I hope you enjoy it :)- Bee x**

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><p>Rainey Maguire had grown up like most of the children of her generation hearing of the Second Great War against Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Like all the children of her generation, she had been fascinated by the events and at the same time repulsed by the horrifying atrocities that had been committed and the massive loss of life. It was for all intents and purposes, the Wizarding version of a civil war.<p>

During her teenage years at Hogwarts she had delved as deeply as she had been able to into the history of what had happened. She had discovered that there had been three campaigns against the tyrant and despot known as Lord Voldemort. The first had not culminated in outright and open warfare, as the baby Harry Potter had seemingly killed Lord Voldemort before it had come to that.

The second campaign began after Voldemort regained a body (she had never said human for it was a well known fact that the man had been so badly twisted by the Dark Arts that he was more reptilian than man). This culminated in the First Great War, which Voldemort and his Death Eaters won. There were casualties on both sides and for years the Wizarding World was plunged into Darkness. Rainey had imagined what it would have been like and, combining that with stories that her Father had told her; she had felt fear in her very bones for all those who had been forced to live under the regime. In arrogance, Voldemort had thought that the resistance was dead. What he had failed to take into account was, well from what Rainey had researched, it seemed everything.

After four years of watching, waiting and planning, the resistance came back and so the Second Great War began in earnest. The stakes were even higher this time and, as her Father had informed her, everyone on all sides knew that this was the last conflict. It was win or lose for all time. Thankfully, the Light side and Resistance had won this battle. Lord Voldemort's Horcruxses had all been destroyed during that four-year period and during the Final Battle it had been Hermione Granger who had picked up the Sword of Gryffindor and, with a little magical help from Severus Snape of all people, she had severed Lord Voldemort's head from his body.

In Rainey's eyes, Hermione and Severus were the hero's, not Harry Potter as everyone always said. Sure, he had played a part, but they had struck the final blow and opened the gates to freedom again. So, when Rainey received a letter from none other than the aforementioned pair, requesting an interview she felt as though Christmas had come early.

As the Editor of the Daily Prophet she normally didn't go out into the field and write reports or conduct interviews. In this instance though, venomous tentacula and a herd of Centaurs wouldn't stop her. She immediately hurried out of the office. The pair had requested that she come to Hogwarts, which made sense. Picking up some floor powder from the bowl on her desk, Rainey headed towards the fireplace, throwing the powder down and stepping in.

"Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts!" Rainey called out, clearly and precisely, squeezing her eyes shut as she was carried off through the network. She cracked open one eye, trying not to feel dizzy and spotted the fireplace where she was about to be deposited. She took a few steps forward and barely managed to keep herself standing up straight when she was propelled out onto the carpet of the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts. She opened her other eye and took in a deep breath. As efficient a method of travel as it was, Rainey did not like to floo places, instead preferring broomsticks or apparation if she did not have the time.

She took quick stock of the Office, noticing that not much had changed from when she was a student. She would not have expected anything different though, considering the nature of the Headmaster and her Deputy. As ridiculous as Rainey felt it was, the Patriarch society that was the Wizarding World still referred to posts as male, even if the person occupying them was female such as was the case with the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Headmaster Snape, Deputy Headmaster Snape" Rainey said, politely inclining her head in their directions respectively. The Headmaster offered her a small smile in return and the Deputy Headmaster returned her nod with a polite one of his own.

"Please do sit. May I ask who you are?" Rainey sat down as requested and cleared her throat before speaking.

"Rainey Maria Maguire, Editor of the Daily Prophet. I felt that this interview should be conducted by myself, rather than one of our reporters" Rainey said, deliberately making sure that she didn't give away any of the excitement she felt at the prospect of doing the interview herself. Somehow though, she suspected that the two knew judging by the quick look that passed between them.

"You must feel that this interview is important then" The Headmaster said, with a small smile on her face. She was still young and bright looking, even though she was in her fifties. Her deputy had survived the ravages of time well enough, and he had twenty odd more years on her from what Rainey knew. All in all, they made an impressive pair, in pretty much every regard.

"Important enough that you would not wish less experienced reporters to ruin it" The silky smooth voice added on to what the Headmaster had said. Rainey found herself, internally at least, agreeing to a certain extent. Mostly though it was because she was fascinated with the story that the two were hopefully going to present her with today.

"It is an important interview, one which I am most gracious for you to give." Rainey replied, removing her charmed quill and parchment pad from her robe pocket. She always kept them in her pockets, just in case she needed them.

"Very well then, shall we get down to business?" Rainey said, reverting to her business like manner. She wasn't Editor of the Prophet for just any reason. The Headmaster nodded and the man beside her sighed.

"Yes we shall. Please though, you can refer to us as Hermione and Severus. This will be a personal interview, so-" Hermione's voice was warm and polite, which was a contrast to her husband's.

"You can drop the formalities Ms Maguire" Severus Snape cut in, a slight rasp to his voice. Rainey was unsure if that was due to his age or the injuries he had incurred in the line of his duty. It could be either, although she would have found it idealistically to be the second.

"Well then, Severus, Hermione. Where would you like to start?" Rainey asked, scratching the word's _Snape's Interview _at the top of the page. She then placed the pad down on the desk between all three of them and watched as the quill removed itself from her hand and hovered over the page, poised for word's to be spoken.

"After we lost the First Great War" Hermione started off, reaching her hand out to grasp hold of her husband's. Severus looked away from Rainey and placed his hand over his wife's, squeezing gently. His lips twitched into the closest that he could summon to a smile and his wife returned it.

"That's where the story begins" She said, and Rainey nodded, feeling herself on the precipice, ready to fall into the story of Severus and Hermione Snape nee Granger.


	2. Fight Or Flight

**Authors Note: Well, here's another chapter for all of you who read the beginning of this story a long time ago. I can assure you, it is going to get dark and not so grand. There are probably going to be some sensitive issue's popping up for some people. Still, I hope you like. Feel free to send me a message if you wish, don't be a stranger - Bee x**

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><p>Hermione ran as fast as she could, not even considering giving into the burning in her calves and the pain in her chest. They were following swiftly behind her, yelling hexes and she ducked whenever she felt one whizzing past her. She had been clipped by a slicing hex on her left arm and it had cut rather deep. She had been unable to stop and stem the bleeding; instead she had ran as fast as her feet could take her. They had lost the battle but Hermione didn't feel they had lost the war, they could not have. Harry was still alive, she would have known if he had been killed, even though they had been separated in the woods.<p>

"STUPIFY!" Hermione screamed, throwing her spell behind her back. She hoped that it hit one of her pursuers. Even if she could only bring down one of them, she would settle for that. She had not even considered who could be chasing her down with a vengeance, for all she knew Bellatrix Lestrange herself could be hot on Hermione's heels. The woman was batshit insane, and Hermione would rather face Lucius Malfoy than Bellatrix. A jet of green light narrowly avoided her and Hermione stumbled to the ground as she tripped over a tree root in fright. Clearly the Death Eaters were getting serious now. Hermione would not be able to outrun them; she knew that as well as she knew her own name. This left Hermione with only two other options. Either she could stand her ground and try to fight them all, which was the noble but stupid thing to do, or she could take the illegal portkey in her pocket. She had created it herself with Ron's wand, which he had let her borrow although it was against convention, and it was keyed to take her and only her to a safe location she remembered in the Pennines from when her and her parents had once been on holiday. It was a small cave and Hermione had been working on it for quite some time, to try and make it liveable. It had been a contingency plan in case it had all gone wrong. Now it seemed it would be her only hope and salvaition.

Hermione removed the muggle receipt from Tesco's supermarket from her pocket and felt the familiar pull behind her navel before the woodland scene disappeared around her. She screwed her eyes shut as the pain from the open wound in her arm spiked. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing in the cave, and thankfully she was the only human being there. Crookshanks was prowling around and as soon as he caught sight of his mistress he shot over and wound his body around and in between her legs. Taking a deep breath and releasing a hollow laugh, Hermione bent down slightly and scratched the back of Crookshank's ears with her right hand. She made her way over to the small table she had set up and placed her wand on the wooden surface. She took hold of a bottle of Solution of Dittany and, gritting her teeth together, she unscrewed the cork and applied a few drops to the wound on her arm. She hissed through her clenched teeth and her face was contorted in pain as the Dittany did its work.

"We lost this one Crooks." Hermione said, addressing her cat unabashedly. There was nobody else to hear her, and there certainly wasn't anyone else to talk to. Crookshanks had never just been a cat to Hermione. The fact that he was part Kneazle and the events in her third year concerning Sirius Black, rest his soul, had only cemented the idea in her head that he was more than what he seemed. Crookshanks was a highly intelligent animal, and he had never left her, even though cat's were well known to do that.

Apart from Crookshanks, Hermione was now on her own. Considering the outcome of their last engagement with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, she could not even afford to use her magic. Hermione was no fool, and she never really had been. She was more than aware that now that they had Wizarding Britain in their grasp, they could trace her magical signature. It was why she had used Ron's wand to make the portkey. They would never trace his signature, not anymore. They would be searching for her signature. Perhaps they would eventually figure out what she had done, in which case she would be long gone. She had an early warning alarm system alerting her if any wizard or witch crossed the perimeter she had set of 15 miles. Nobody would be able to portkey or apparate in, and so they would have to manually cross the boundary. As soon as they did so, Hermione would know and she would have left by the time they arrived, having moved onto her other safe area. It was a plan that she had spent many hours thinking over. There were holes in the plan, a few here or there, but they were only to identify specific individuals. Also, if anybody was already in the perimeter, then her system would not pick them up. She highly doubted that any Death Eater or ally of a Death Eater would be inside her perimeter. Even though the odds were unlikely, she had still taken precautionary measures by cloaking the cave she was currently standing in. There was an invisibility spell, a magical dampening field, and layers upon layers of anti-detection charms and other protective enchantments. Hermione was not going to take the risk.

She replaced the bottle of Dittany on the table and nestled herself down on the cave floor, using one of the table legs to support her back. She leant backwards and sighed heavily, shutting her eyes and trying not to cry. Now that the adrenaline was no longer being released and running through her system, she could feel all the anger, the hurt, the loneliness, worry and sheer emotional anguish. They had lost so much. She had managed to get herself to safety, but she did not know if any of the others had been able to. All she could do was hide away in her cave, like a coward, and wait to hear any whisper of news from anyone. She knew in her heart of hearts that, despite the odds, she could not be the only one who had made it away safe. She could not confront the idea that she would be forever alone in a world that was going to become a very cruel and unforgiving place very quickly. The darkness and shadow had descended upon Hermione's world, and she did not know if the light would be able to pierce through it. She could only hope, and play the waiting game.

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><p>Severus Snape stood, hands folded behind his back, looking out at the night sky. London was burning, as it had many times before in the past. The Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters had taken control, once and for all it may have seemed to some. The first item on the Dark Lord's agenda appeared to be burning London City to the ground, in order to rebuild from there. Screams of those in pain, the dying and the anguished cries of those discovering loved one's dead, tore through the night and Severus could only watch the scene with morbid fascination. If ever he had wanted any confirmation that he had made a disastrous mistake in his youth by joining the Death Eaters, he had it here and now. There was a difference between a desire to strike back at the world and all who had done him wrong, to rebel against a system, and to bring it to its knees then destroy it in favour of a dictatorship. Even after all the years of surrounding the insane and the sadistic, he had still not been able to understand why they would want to do such a thing, beyond the insatiable call towards power and wealth. Then again, the powerful and rich only wanted to become more powerful and rich did they not?<p>

Severus could no longer bear to watch the scene unfolding before him. If all went according to his plan, then the Dark Lord and the Death Eater's would be convinced that the traitor Severus Snape had been killed in one of the fires. He wanted to live, for reasons of atonement and redemption he assumed and to honour a promise that he had made years before. If they discovered that he was in fact alive and not burned to naught but ash, they would hunt him down and destroy him in the worst way possible. Severus had a duty and he wanted to live a reasonably painless existence. In the space of a single day, the world had become a land of extreme's and desolation, where misery soaked into the soul of every creature alive. In such a time and place, Severus would have to follow the mood and would have to take extreme action of his own.

He glanced down at the arm with the Dark Mark tattoo, a malevolent stain upon his sallow skin. He sighed once more and rubbed his forearm with his other hand. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and this next space of time, however long it would last for, could turn out to be the darkest days that had been seen in the country since wizards and witches began practising magic. The resistance would still be alive, of that he had no doubt. Harry Potter would still be alive. Even from where he was sequestered, Severus would have heard of the Ultimate Victory if Potter had been killed. As for the other members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army, Severus had no idea what fate had befallen them. Despite his personal dislike towards the vast majority of them, even Severus hoped that they had not met a grisly end, and that they had survived to fight another day, as had he.

One last look at the sky, as pitch as tar with the black smoke rising from the burning buildings, and Severus turned his back upon the hellish sight as he faded into the shadows enveloping the Tower of London. It had been the safest place he could find, for not even the Dark Lord would wish to destroy a place with such a violent history written in the blood of hundreds. At dawn the next day, Severus would leave and head to Dover, focused upon the shores across the Channel. France would be his hiding place, after all, who would think to look for a greasy haired ex spy in France?


	3. Three Months Passage

__**Authors Note: Here's another chapter for you. A bit shorter than the last but I hope you like it too- Bee x  
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><p><em>Three Months Later<em>

Hermione had been living a life that she never thought she would ever have even touched before, for the past three months. Crookshanks was very far from keen about the change in his living arrangements, but Hermione had told him very sternly that he would just have to deal with it. Once a week, Hermione left her safety and sprinted out into the world, skirting past every human being that caught her. Never before had she wished for an Invisibility Cloak more than she had since that fateful night when she had been driven to the cave. During these once weekly forays into the world, Hermione scavenged all the bread, water and meat that she could. She retrieved berries from the bushes growing with in her safety perimeter, and so this was how Hermione Granger had lived her life in the three months since she had started living in hiding.

Every day Hermione anxiously searched for any indication, any whisper about any of her friends or associates. Every day she was disappointed with not even a hint of news on the wind. She stole newspapers when and where she could during her weekly scavenging sessions, and had discovered very little other than the state that the world was in. Death was a constant companion to many people, and the world was no longer a safe place. It was very far from it. There didn't appear to be any action that the resistance had taken since that night they had scattered in all directions, or been killed. Hermione didn't even know who had survived and who had died. So, she had been left with two courses of action. She could hope that they had all lived and wait for the day where they would all meet again, or she could mourn the loss of them all and when she met the living again, she would stick close to them and feel the warmth of their love once more.

There was only one person that Hermione knew for definite had died, and that was Ron Weasley. Her once beloved Ron had departed their world during a Death Eater raid at the Burrow three months before. The whole Weasley family, Harry and herself had been almost inconsolable for weeks. They had been forced to move on and continue the fight against the Death Eaters and their Master with one other lost friend to remember in their minds and in their hearts. Hermione had focused on the fight with renewed vigour, a desperate attempt by her to avoid fully confronting the reality of what had happened. She had ignored Ron's empty chair, and had ignored the absence of another shock of brilliant red hair. Now that she was in hiding, the memories of her and Ron had swept over her like a tidal wave bearing pain, grief and loss. For the first month, she had done little else other than sob and wish that she had died with Ron. The loss was almost too much for her to deal with. Then, something had changed.

One day when Hermione had been scavenging for food, she encountered a small scene that had swept all thought of grief from her mind, and brought her back to focus. She had just managed to swipe a small block of freshly made cheese from a farmhouse and was returning when she encountered a small child hunched over and hunkered down upon the road. The child was clothed in rags of cloth that looked as though they had once been robes. Hermione had knelt down in the dusty road and had placed a hand lightly upon the child's back and had been rewarded by the child flinching back and squealing.

"P-P-Please Miss! Don't hurt me!" The child cried out. Hermione made soothing noises in the back of her throat; her facial expression softer than it had ever been since the War had begun.

"I am not here to hurt you. By Merlin, that is the last thing I want to do." Hermione stated. This seemed to be the right thing to say because the child stopped making panicked and distressed noises. Hermione smiled gently and swept the dirty, matted hair from the child's forehead. The young girl looked up at her with wide, fearful eyes.

"What has happened to you?" Hermione questioned gently. She did not want to press the girl too much, she could only be about eight years old and clearly she had been through some ordeal that Hermione could only guess at.

"D-Death Eaters." The girl stuttered. Hermione felt a burning in the back of her throat and in her chest. It was a familiar sensation and she had been forced to become accustomed to it in the past few years. Anger. Hermione was so angry. She did not need to know any more about what had been done, but the girl had another idea altogether.

"They took away Mum and Dad! I ran away. I shouldn't have ran away!" She exclaimed before thick, salty tears spilled down her cheeks. Hermione held her arms out to the girl who immediately threw herself into Hermione's embrace. She made' sush'ing noises and rubbed her hands over the girl's back in an attempt to comfort her.

"No, no. You did the best thing you could. I ran away too you know." Hermione said which certainly seemed to catch the girl's attention. She paused in her crying and pulled back from Hermione to look her square in the eye.

"I did. Sometimes running away is the best thing we could do." Hermione sighed and smiled faintly at the girl.

"Sometimes, it's the only option we have left." Hermione spoke her words slowly and looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath before looking back at the girl.

"Come on, you can't just sit here on the road." Hermione pulled the girl to her feet and brushed the dirt from her tattered and torn robes.

"There you go. You look lovely now. I can see that lovely, pretty face properly now." Hermione smiled and winked at the girl who giggled a blush colouring her cheeks. The girl had stayed with Hermione for a few weeks then she had made her own way after finding out which direction she should be going to in order to find her Uncle in Cardiff. If Hermione had been able to, she would have accompanied the girl. However, meeting the young girl had brought everything back into focus for Hermione. She needed to plan her next move, and so she had begun to plan.

Hastily sketched maps taken from her memory scrawled on parchment littered the table. Pieces of parchment were scattered all over the cave floor with notes and diagrams scratched on, even with the ink running out. She had her plans, she had her spells. All she needed was contact. All she needed was her friends, her other family. She had no idea when they would find her though, or if they would even think to look for her, there or anywhere.

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><p>Severus had managed to make his way through London, mostly undetected. There had been a few skirmishes here and there but he had taken any down who had stood in his way and tried bringing him back to the Dark Lord. They had been unsuccessful and as soon as he had left the perimeter of London, it had been easy street for him from there on. It had not taken him long to reach Dover. The only problem was slipping onto a ship destined for Calais. The simple answer would have been to make use of a simple Confundus charm. However, that was not particularly an option. So, he had disguised himself and stole onto the ship. Soon enough, he had made it onto the soil of France.<p>

In the dark of the night, Severus Snape stood and looked out across the Channel at the dark waters. He had made it to his place of safety, at minimal cost. He had little pride left now, yet plenty of bitterness at his cowardice in leaving.

"Not cowardice." He announced to the empty night. It was not cowardice, perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps, cowardice was actually a guise for something much more Slytherin-esque. Perhaps he had not fled out of fear, but out of strategic gain. He could plan his next move in safety, and build his strength, and perhaps gain new allies before bringing the fight back to the Dark Lord and defeating him and all those that stood with him, once and for all.

Severus had not a friend in the country, and he had never actually been to France before. The only French people he knew were the family of Fleur Delacour who was soon to be Weasley. After what had occurred at Hogwarts, that most painful night when he had destroyed his only friend in the world, he could not even consider being discovered by them, let alone fleeing to them requesting asylum. No, he would have to make his own way in a country foreign to him in every way, and hope that he could find a place to survive and plot the Final Fight.

He silently saluted the darkness stretching on towards Britain before turning on his heel and making his way towards the hardest leg of his journey yet.


End file.
